


Trust Is The Only Truth That Sticks

by Written_prose_things



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Irondad, Mafia AU, Mafia Boss Tony Stark, Naive Peter Parker, Steve Rogers is a little shit, Subplots are sidequests, dark tony stark?, definitely evil tony stark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:55:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24273166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Written_prose_things/pseuds/Written_prose_things
Summary: (WIP ALERT; I'VE SUSPENDED WRITING THIS FIC RIGHT NOW)Peter is a teen vigilante who mistakes Tony, a famous mafia boss, for a regular civilian. They forge a friendship through this miscommunication, which Tony never resolves.Like always, one lie leads to a bigger lie which leads to an even bigger lie, will the pair be able to make it out of the dark times ahead in one piece? [Prompt Fill]
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, May Parker & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Phil Coulson/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers/ Norman Osborn (Past), Tony Stark & Stephen Strange, Wade Wilson & Peter Parker - Relationship
Comments: 34
Kudos: 108





	1. A Storm Brewing

Peter Parker is a little different than other kids. He’s a poor orphan who goes to the best STEM school in New York, he has a curfew of 1 a.m. but his aunt’s geo-tagged his phone.  
He skips the classes but spends them in the company of the NYPD. He’s closely acquainted with the NYPD detectives, but he’s never sat in the back of a cop car.  
  


That’s because he’s spiderman.  
  


Peter Parker spends his Friday nights outside the house, but he never goes to any parties. He fights crime.

And that’s what he’s doing this Friday as well. Sitting on the railing of a walk-up’s fire escape in Queens, as gang members collect in the alley below him. 5 men with guns. They call themselves The Scorpions.

Peter thinks the name is basic. But the insult is too on the nose, also he doesn’t have the guts to say it to their face.

Peter is scared. Shit scared. He usually doesn’t go after gangs this big. He never goes after gangs at all, but these guys have been selling drugs to his classmates, and that’s cause for concern.

  
He’s been following them around for a few weeks now. They are always very subdued; he’s never even seen their boss. He knows the guy has a lot of power, because his friends in the NYPD explicitly told him not to follow his leads, that it would only lead to a place six feet under the dirt.

This Friday, five men had picked up their equipment and headed out. Peter had no choice but to follow.

Now, he was freezing his butt off, sitting on the fire escape in a non-descript alley half an hour after his curfew, as the five men stood below him, waiting for their target.

Suddenly, the door of a bodega across the street opened and a middle-aged man stepped out. The Scorpions cocked their guns. At that moment, Peter knew that these men weren’t scared of harming anyone who came in their way.  
  
He crossed the road and headed their way. Peter tried to warn the man, but he couldn’t catch his attention without alerting the men below him of his presence. Before Peter could try anything, the man was dragged into the alley by his collar, kicking and screaming. But no one was around to listen.

The broadest man, with blonde hair, grabbed the man by his collar and shook him, before putting a gun to his forehead.

Peter had no choice now. He webbed up the blonde man’s gun and flipped onto the opposite wall. The men looked up, trying unsuccessfully to locate him in the dark.

He webbed the men up one by one, as they looked around bewildered. For his part, the victim was quick to in using his window. He throat punched and took out the blonde man.

Peter jumped onto one of the men’s shoulders and banged his head into another man’s skull. The next few seconds pass in a blur.

Peter's senses take over, and he ducks and jumps when he feels the men take jabs at him and kicks and punches them, before tying them up in webs.

When he turns to look at the old man, he’s holding a gun in shaking hands, pointed at the blonde guy. Peter inches closer, “Sir, it’s okay. Calm down. Don’t shoot. I’ve called the police.”

The man drops the gun at that moment, “Police?”

Peter nods, “Yes sir. They’ll be here soon. You can calm down. They’ll help you out.”

The man snorts, “You’re incredibly naïve for a vigilante.”

Peter bristles at that but doesn’t answer. Instead, he takes the man away from the thugs.

He quickly scales the wall and reaches for his bag. He calls his assigned detective to his current location.

While he isn’t paying attention, the old man threatens the thugs in a quiet voice, “Better luck next time. Killing me isn’t that easy. I’m stronger than you and your posse, even after a fucking grocery run.” He grabs the blonde man by the collar and smacks his head against the wall.

When Peter comes down, the old man isn’t there anymore. And as much as Peter feels like following the man, he can’t abandon his post.

A few moments later, a few cop cars roll in and Peter stands at the mouth of the alley as the thugs get handcuffed. Peter’s favourite detective comes in not a moment later.

When the gang members have been bundled into the cop cars, Peter walks up to the detective and asks with a fake cheer in his voice “Detective Coulson, how are you?”

He sighs, “I was having a great day before you dragged me out here.”

Peter exclaims, “But I caught gang members!”

Coulson stares at him, “Yell a little louder. Maybe the mob boss can finish you off right now.” He shakes his head like he’s warding off negative thoughts, “You’ve messed with the bull, Spiderman. I hope for your sake, and ours a well, that you know what to expect now.”

Peter falters, “What do you mean?”

Coulson steps into his car and evades the question, “See you later, kid.”

Peter yells into the dust Coulson’s car kicks up, “I’m not a kid!!”

\---

An hour later, a phone rings in an Upper Manhattan penthouse. A man picks up the receiver quickly, he’s been waiting for this call the entire night.

“You’re late.” He says shortly.

A scared voice replies, “The plan failed.”

“ _What the fuck_?”

The shaky voice replies, “A mole spotted Tony Stark outside his compound.”

The man yells, “He was on his own, with zero security and no fucking guns. How’d these idiots manage to fuck this up?”

The voice replies quietly, “He had help. Spiderman helped him.”

The man tries taking a calming breath, “Fine, we’ll take care of all the loose ends. Send me these men tomorrow morning, sharp.”

The voice on the other end replies faintly, “They were arrested.”

The man throws the receiver into a wall.

\---

Even though Peter doesn’t know it yet, as he sits in his living room getting a lecture from his aunt about being home by curfew, a storm is brewing and it’s coming his way.


	2. False Hope and Fake Promises

For someone who’s actively being pursued by a mafia boss, Peter’s living a relatively normal life.

He rushes to school, as usual, listens to his friend's chatter, as usual, gets bullied by Flash, as usual.

And he’s about to fall asleep in class as usual when his name crackles over the P.A. He’s been called to the Principal’s office.

When he reaches the office, the Principal’s assistant intercepts him, “Peter Parker?”

Peter nods, “Yes ma’am.”

She nods, “Follow me, please.”

She leads Peter to Principal Morita’s office. When the man spots Peter, his demeanour changes entirely.

“Hello, Peter.”

“Good Morning Principal Morita.”

Morita nods to his assistant, “Thank you, Mrs Johnson, that’ll be all.”

As soon as the door closes behind her, Mr Morita looks at Peter, “Sit down, Peter.”

Peter sits down, and he still has no idea why he’s here right now.

“Peter, you are one of our brightest students. That’s why we volunteered to bear the cost of you participating in the Rutherford Symposium.”

Peter deflates, he knows what’s coming. Mr Morita notices this and grimaces slightly.

“I’m sorry, Peter, but the school has had quite a few budget cuts. We had to cut a few programmes to keep financing the scholarships. I hope you understand?”

Peter nods and gets up, “Thank you for the opportunity, Mr Morita.”

Before he can leave the office, Mr Morita speaks up, “Peter? The deadline for the payment of the fees is in 3 weeks. We haven’t recalled your name yet. If you can, try to secure the amount by then.”

Peter nods, “Yes Mr Morita.”

Peter brood as he walks back to class. Although Mr Morita hasn’t said it in those many words, Peter knows that it’s been a toss-up between scholarships for kids like him and financial assistance for extracurricular activities.

But Peter still feels upset. The Rutherford Symposium is a hotspot for scouts from good schools (like MIT), which could increase his chances of getting in with an acceptable scholarship. Without this, he’s not going to have an upper hand in the race to get a good school.

What irritates Peter more, is that he’d beaten Flash in a competition to represent the school in the symposium.

Peter knows that he’s lost the opportunity. As a kid from a single income household, even 3 months is too short to get 600 dollars.

He marinates in his despair the entire day. By the time lunch rolls around, both Ned and MJ know that something’s wrong with him, even though they share only one class with him.

“What happened with Mr Morita?” Ned asks for the hundredth time.

Peter sighs. He doesn’t want them to pity him, but they’re going to find out either way.

“The school cancelled the financial assistance for the Rutherford Symposium.”

Ned gasps, “What?”

Peter doesn’t want to drag the conversation out further. “Yeah, he said something about lack of finances.”

Ned groans on Peter’s behalf, “Oh man, that sucks.”

Peter hums and digs into his sandwich. He expects the conversation to be over.

MJ asks, “What are you going to do about it?”

Peter looks at her, face stuffed with bread, “Wha-?”

MJ puts her book down, “What’s the plan?”

Peter shakes his head, “There’s no plan.”

MJ rolls her eyes, “Have you thought about paying the fees yourself.”

Peter looks at MJ like she’s grown another head, “How? We’re talking about 600 dollars.”

She asks, “What’s your allowance?”

Peter snorts, and pieces of bread fall on the table, “The board won’t accept fees in down payment.”

MJ reaches across the table and smacks his head swiftly, “Shut up. We’ll pool our resources.”

Ever the optimist, Ned joins in, “Peter has a weekly allowance of 15 dollars, I get 20 dollars in a week and I have 200 dollars saved up for a Lego set I was going to buy.”

She nods, “Yeah, I have an allowance of 17 dollars.”

Peter speaks up, “That’s only 356 dollars. We’re very far off, guys, even if I take your money, which I can’t.”

It’s Ned’s turn to smack him now, because he receives a sharp jab to his ribs from the side, “Shut up. You’re taking the money.”

MJ nods, “And you can take up a job too.”

Peter stares at her, “Where? Even if I take up a job today, no one’s going to pay me till the end of 4 weeks.”

MJ shrugs, “You can work at my dad’s café.”

Peter replies slowly, “MJ, I’m not taking charity.”

She rolls her eyes, “Dude, we were already looking for someone to help out.”

Peter nods, “Okay, but you pay me minimum wage, okay?”

MJ turns to her book, “no more, no less.”

Peter points out, “But that still leaves a gap.”

MJ points a finger in his face, “There’s still a chance. We can take the collected amount Mr Morita or even the symposium board. I’m sure they won’t haggle with you over a few hundred dollars.”

\----

Coulson had joined the NYPD as a young naïve officer. Now he was a detective with 4 years of experience under his belt.

He’d learnt early in his career that the best way of surviving was minding his own business. He’s got handed the responsibility of tracking Spiderman when he had been a mild nuisance. But now, the kid had thrown a wrench in Coulson’s plan of laying low, by going after the henchmen of a major gang.

For the first time in his career, Coulson had been asked to spend his weekend at the precinct office, answering calls of senior officers seeking information and filing information.

When he returned to the office on Monday after a full three hours of sleep, he sees the thugs being led out of the lockup as free men.

After spending the entire morning on working his new case, something about armed robbers, and filing new information about Spiderman, Coulson had some free time.

He uses the opportunity to go to the records room downstairs. He knows that the search isn’t going to yield many results, considering that this gang hasn’t ever been convicted by the NYPD.

He walks around the shelves of boxes, looking for anything that pops out to him. As soon as his back is turned to the door, it closes with a swift snap.

Coulson curses Spiderman, every pot-smoking idiot in his school and most of all, he curses himself for giving a shit about a teen vigilante.

He keeps his hands and turns around slowly.

“Phil.”

Coulson stiffens. It’s Maria Hill. She’s been a senior detective at this precinct since before Coulson got assigned here. He hadn’t known that she was also sold out.

“What are you doing Hill?”

She shoves him into a shelf and bares her teeth, “I don’t care who’s paying you, I’m not letting you take any file about the Scorpions.”

Coulson shoves her hands off his jacket, “No one’s paying me. I just want to see what all the fuss is about.”

Hill scoffs, “I’m supposed to believe that? After you spent the last two days telling the captain about Spiderman’s haunts?”

Coulson eyes widen, “The captain’s in on it?”

Hill looks terrified when she realizes who unaware Coulson is, “Nothing. It doesn’t matter. Just don’t touch the files. I don’t care who’s side you’re on, I will fucking kill you.”

With that, she storms out of the records room. Coulson knows that he can’t trust Hill. But he might have sold the kid out to the gang.

He has to call Spiderman right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, before we get into this further,  
> 1\. May knows that Peter is Spiderman and she's quite chill.  
> 2\. Ned and MJ don't know.  
> //I might add Wade Wilson (only as a platonic character), let me know in the comments what you think.//  
> -WrittenP


	3. Door To The Devil

_Sunday:_  
The tension is stifling in the dark room. There’s a gap in the curtains, which lets in a sliver of light from the streetlamp onto the table. Rhodey stares at it and contemplates.  


Tony’s sitting in his seat at the head of the table, arms behind his head, legs kicked up on the table. But Rhodey can spot his tells, the man is barely concealing his anger.  


He should be angry and frustrated. An attack like that shows everyone else that Tony’s control is slipping. Everyone knows when they find the person responsible, Tony’s going to take them to his basement for a long time.  


Happy speaks up first, saying what Rhodey’s thinking, “We have to find who did this.”  
Tony’s response surprises Rhodey, “No.”  
The five people around the table, including Rhodey erupt into confused chaos, talking over each other, asking questions and trying to argue.  
Tony bangs his hand on the table and everyone shuts up.  


“If we go looking for the mole, everyone knows we’re two steps behind. So, no we don’t give a shit about the mole-” when Stephen and Pepper try to argue, he holds up a hand and continues, “for right now. We wipe out those fucking scorpions first thing. How can the mole rat us out, when there isn’t anyone listening? Then we flush him out and make an example.”  


Stephen and Pepper settle down. This has satisfied Rhodey’s bloodlust too. No one goes after his brother.  


Happy hums, “It’ll send a message. No snitch survives.”  


Tony gives them all a feral grin, “Exactly.”  


Bucky speaks up from his seat, between Rhodey and Tony, “But how do we get the Scorpions? They only show themselves, if you have something they want.”  
<>p Rhodey realizes what Tony’s thinking and speaks up, “But we can get what they’re looking for…”  


Tony laughs, “Good man.”  


Bucky looks between the both of them, “Am I missing something?”  


Tony looks at him, “Spiderman.”  


Stephen snorts in disbelief, “How do you plan on getting this teen vigilante on our side?”  


Tony shrugs, “The kid doesn’t even have to know anything. If we follow him around for a few days, we can get the Scorpions.”  


Pepper frowns, “What about the kid, though? How do we get rid of him?”  


Tony shrugs, “I've got plans for the kid."  


Bucky nods, “Right, we have to find the kid before the Scorpions. I’m sending out a signal to everyone to keep their eyes and ears open.”  


Tony slaunters away, “Give ‘em money for finding the kid too.”  


\--------  


_Monday:_  


Peter reaches home 5 hours late, but still earlier than May. He leaves his book bag on the bed and heads to the bathroom.  


Usually, a quick warm shower is enough to get rid off his stress after going out as spiderman. But Peter’s doubting it’s ability to wash off the stress from the café. He spent his practice shift of 4 hours cleaning up after unruly kids and even more unruly adults.  


By the time he pads out of the bathroom in warm socks, sweatpants and a science pun t-shirt, May’s back. With her back to Peter, she’s standing in the kitchen, staring at the utensils like they’ve offended her.  


Peter clears his throat and asks, “Hey May, I was thinking, can we order takeaway today?”  
May’s relief is barely concealed, “Sure kiddo. How about the Thai place down the street?”  
Peter nods, “Sure. How was your day?”  
May shrugs, “Not bad.” Which means, it was bad. Peter sometimes feels very guilty about how hard May works.  


Before he can spiral, May pulls him out of his thoughts, “How was your day?”  


Peter shrugs, “The usual.” The lie twists his stomach. He hates lying to May. He’d barely been able to hide the fact that he was Spiderman from her for a few weeks.  
He clears his throat and continues, “The teachers just assigned some homework and a project. I’ll got to it.”  


May nods, “Alright, and will you be going out today?”  
May asks him the same question every evening, and his answer remains the same, “You know the answer, May.”  


Peter closes his door and gets to work. When all his homework is done, he powers on his computer and looks at all the ideas he’s compiled for the symposium.  
Peter’s bending over backwards to get the money for the symposium, but it is possible that he’ll never get in. If he doesn’t get in, it’s going to hurt more, knowing that he had a project ready for the symposium.  


He sighs and shuts the computer off. He walks out of his room towards the living room, where May’s watching T.V.  


As he waits for the food, he has nothing better to do than check the burner phone he uses to contact Detective Coulson. They almost never talk on it, but Peter always checks it before his rounds as Spiderman hoping for some police work.  


When Peter sees the notifications of missed calls and messages on it, at first, he doesn’t comprehend it.  


A second later, the phone falls on May’s foot.  


“Ow, Peter! What’s wrong?”  
<>p Peter’s picks up the phone and rushes back to his room, “Detective Coulson called me. Sorry! I have to go!”  


May yells back, still sitting on the couch, nursing her hurt toes, “Peter! You have to eat dinner before going! It’s a rule, we just had a conversation about this two days ago!”  


Peter’s already pulled on his mask and is out of the window, before May finishes her rant. He already knows he’s going to get into a heap of trouble when he gets back.  


Usually, he’s far more careful about his identity. He uses some random back alleys to change in, rather than jumping out of his window in front of everyone, but this is urgent.  


Coulson’s message keeps flashing in his mind.  


Meet me at the warehouse at 11 p.m.  


Coulson doesn’t need to specify which warehouse. Peter and him had first met at an abandoned warehouse in Queens where some petty thieves were hiding their stolen stash.  


Peter haphazardly swings between buildings. He’s already late to meet Coulson.  


Peter reaches the warehouse in record time and drops in through a whole in the roof.  


The noise startles Coulson, who draws his gun, “Who’s there?”  


Peter can hear fear in every syllable. Nothing fazes Coulson, which sets Peter on edge even more.  


“It’s just me.”  


“Thank God.” Coulson holsters his gun, but keeps his hand near it.  


Peter flips to the ground, “What’s up?”  


Coulson sighs, “The people you messed with-”  


Peter gets frustrated and interrupts, “Detective, this is the third time you’re telling me this. I thought you called me here for police work, man. So, if this is another PSA, then save it.”  


Coulson’s voice is sharp when he replies, “Listen kid, I’m scared for you. Those guys have moles in the force. If there’s even a slight chance that they’ve gotten their hands on my reports, you’re fucked. Just lay low for a couple days, for my sake of not yours.”  


Peter’s voice is shaky when he replies, “Detective, you don’t get it. I have to do this. Regardless of the consequences. This is my responsibility.”  


Coulson sighs, he feels like he’s been banging his head against a wall, “You’re just a kid. You are someone’s responsibility. What do you think's gonna happen of you do this? Nothing. Your parents are gonna find their kid lying somewhere like roadkill before he’s even graduated school.”  


The change in Peter’s mood is clear, he stands up straighter and stares at Coulson, “My parents are dead, detective. I told you, I’m doing this. I have to go.”  


Peter swings out of the warehouse, leaving Coulson behind. In his irritated state, Peter doesn’t sense the car that follows him.  


\---------  


Coulson stares at the stars through the hole in the roof, long after Spiderman had left. When there’s no sign of return, he heads back.  


He crawls out from under the rusted padlocked doors of the warehouse and comes face to face with a pair of skinny legs in dirty worn out sneakers.  


He looks up to see the familiar face of Steve Rogers. It feels weird to look up at him.  


Steve stares down at him with a shit eating grin, “Hey detective, I didn’t know the police could break into old warehouses without warrants.”  


Coulson rolls out from under the door. When he straightens up, he easily barges through the skinny guy and towards his car. Steve Rogers is the skinniest and tiniest guy in the world. But that doesn’t stop him from being involved in every gang fight ever.  


Coulson fires back gruffly, “What’re you doing here, Rogers? Shouldn’t you be doing illegal shit in some alleyway?”  


Steve smirks and licks his lips, “I could do you?”  


Coulson rolls his eyes and gets in his car. Rogers is also a raging homosexual, it’s very refreshing to see in this neighborhood. And Coulson is sometimes sure that if he hadn’t arrested the guy so many times, they’d actually get along.  


“No thanks, I don’t need STDs.”  


Coulson isn’t usually this crass or rude, but that’s just the way they interact. As expected, the insult rolls right off Rogers' back. He moves onto the next topic, “Where you going?”  


Coulson rests his head on the steering wheel and groans, “Home.”  


Steve laughs, “Okay, Grandma. Goodnight.”  


Coulson lifts his head and scowls, “No. I have had it with corrupt police, teen vigilantes and gay gangbangers.”  


He can sense Steve’s need to make a joke from a mile away. He holds his hand up, “Shut up. I don’t need to hear about your weird teenage fantasy or whatever. Goodnight.”  


Coulson reverses the car and heads home. He stares at Steve through the rear view mirror.  


The short man gets a phone call and an unmistakably dark grin takes over his face. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that he's a criminal with that cute smile.  


Coulson shakes his head and focuses on the road ahead. Cute smirk? What the hell? He’s the devil incarnate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone's safe and healthy during quarantine :)


	4. Turning tides and shifting sands

l Coulson drives off towards the busy road at the end of the alley, leaving Steve under a flickering streetlight.

Steve breathes a sigh of relief. He’d stalled the man long enough for him to not notice that Natasha, Sam and Clint had followed Spiderman.

As Coulson turns the corner, Steve’s phone buzzes with a call from Natasha.

She’s straight to the point, “We’re by the storage units in Flushing. We have eyes on the kid, get your ass here. Sam’s called the boss.”

The thought of having to ‘report to a boss’ leaves a bad taste in Steve’s mouth.

“Hold up. You’ve called Tony?”

“Yes. I’ve called him and every other fucking bastard who thinks he owns us. It was good luck that we found him. I need you here to sweet talk the guy and get our money. So stop sucking off that cop and get your ass here.”

Steve scowls, “Yeah alright. I’m coming.”

Natasha laughs before hanging up, “Bet you are.”

\---

Steve reaches the storages units just before Tony Stark rolls up with his muscle gang, expect Bucky.

Steve barely holds in a sigh. Fan-fucking-tastic, the one guy he can sweet talk into oblivion isn’t there when they need him. Instead, Rhodes and Happy accompany Tony.

“Where’s the kid?”

 _Goddamn_ , Steve thinks, _never thought I’d see the day when Tony Stark was worried_.

The four of them point to the furthest storage unit.

Tony turns to Rhodey, “Keep a lookout.”

He nods, “Yes Boss.”

Happy follows Tony towards the kid.

\--------------

 _Earlier that evening_ :

Stephen always thought he was smarter than the others, including Tony. But he also knew, acting like that would get him murdered or worse. So, usually, he gives Tony his advice in private, away from the eyes of the public.

For Stephen, even Tony’s closest associates are public.

Tony doesn’t understand the man at all, and sometimes gets infuriated with him. But Strange is very loyal. So Tony entertains his requests for a private audience, like he’s doing right now.

Stephen sits across his mahogany desk, “Tony, I don’t think you should go.”

Tony quirks an eyebrow, _straight to the point it seems_ , “Why?”

Stephen looks at him with disbelief, “Because you said it yourself, there’s a mole here.”

Tony rolls his eyes. When he’d formed bonds with his main associates, it had been a well-thought-out plan, never letting any of them trust each other. The only thing that bound them, that still binds them, is their loyalty to Tony.  
But sometimes, it gets irritating, having the same conversations about moles and snitching every time there’s an attack.

Tony leans forward, “Think carefully about what you’re going to say next, Strange. You don’t want your boss to come off looking like an idiot.”

Stephen backtracks immediately, “No, Tony, that’s not-” he takes a deep breath and looks away, “If you go there, and the Scorpions find you, everything’s over. They’ll get you both in one go. You don’t understand-” Stephen cuts himself off as soon as he says it, realizing his mistake.

There’s a knock on the door and Rhodey steps in. Tony stands up, adjusting his suit and Stephen follows.

When Tony reaches the door, he abruptly turns around. Stephen barely falters, “Sir?”

Tony whispers threateningly, “You’re walking a think line, Strange. Check yourself before I have to.”

The bob of his adam’s apple is visible as he gulps, “Yes sir.”

With that, Tony turns away and heads to the car. Rhodey follows behind, “What the fuck was he squawkin’ about?”

Tony rolls his eyes, “Nothing.”

Happy’s already waiting for them in the car.

\---------

Tony walks over to the storage unit in his stiff suit, constantly fidgeting and adjusting his stiff suit. He feels like he’s running for the mayor’s office, squeaky and shiny on the outside and full of shit on the inside.

But if they want to sell the glamour to this kid, he’s going to have to do it.

Happy stops a few steps behind him as Tony raps his knuckles on the storage unit’s wall.

“Hey, Spiderman.”

The kid jolts from his position on the roof of the container, almost falling over, “Oh hey! You’re that guy!” The kid sounds surprised. If this is his _supreme_ ability to sense danger, then Tony’s got his work cut out for him.

The kid asks a second later, “Wait, what’re you doing here?”

Tony shrugs and points to the CCTV cameras, “I usually keep a lookout for trespassers on my property. When I saw you, I thought I’d personally come and thank you.”

The kid doesn’t need to know that they don’t own this lot, or that the cameras don’t work.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to trespass. I usually don’t come here.”

Tony calms the kid down, “I only came here to thank you.”

The kid lets out a relieved sigh, “Oh. That’s not an issue, Mr. …” His sentence trails off inquisitively and Tony can sense Happy shuffle closer.

Tony smiles, “Anthony.”

The kid nods, “Alright, Mr Anthony. What do you do?”

Tony waves his arms at the storage units around them, “I’m a businessman, and I have a proposition for you…”

Just then, there’s a sound of a gunshot in the distance. The Scorpions are nothing if not quick.

The sounds escalate quickly and Happy rushes over, “Boss, let’s get outta here.”

But Tony has to take care of the kid. If he even catches a glimpse of Rhodey fighting those guys, the kid’s not going to be the minion they want him to be.

\-------

After Tony walks off, Rhodey pulls out his gun and faces the gate of the enclosure.

Sam clears his throat expectantly, “Rhodes, the money?”

The man grunts in response, “After the drop-off.”

Sam gets in his face, “It’s done.”

Rhodes stares him down, “After the kid is at the compound.”

Sam grunts and pushes himself away from Rhodes.  
  


Steve seethes. The irony is, if he got money for every time he wasn’t paid on time, he’d be a millionaire. But he calms himself down. He’s going to get back at these guys soon.

The five of them keep a watch. Suddenly there’s the unmistakable sound of car tires screeching nearby.

Not a moment later, shots go off.

They all duck away, standing behind the storage containers.

Natasha makes eye contact with Steve. They need to be smart with this.

Cint starts off the cat and mouse chase. Pushing the Scorpions towards Tony while still looking like he’s been blocked off.

Suddenly there’s a loud crash from behind the Scorpions, near the perimeter, most probably where Tony is. They turn and move towards the sound. Rhodes takes the opportunity to gun down a few of them.

Steve has to make a quick decision. If they change sides now, they only get Rhodes. It isn’t going to get them any favours from the boss but Tony Stark will hunt them down like a bloodhound.

Steve fires his first real shot, catching a guy in the knee. After that, all hell breaks loose. The Scorpions lose the play-fighting attitude too.

But it doesn’t help them at all. Tony Stark and Spiderman are gone and they’ve been backed into a corner by The James Rhodes and Steve’s group.

It takes some time, but in the end, the Scorpions are lying in pools of their blood, heaving their last breaths.

Rhodes goes around taking off their masks and noting their names. Hammer’s lying next to them, his blond hair looks dirty, matted down with blood.

His eyes zero in on Steve, “You’re going to die, bitch boy.”

The nickname pulls him back to his days as a dancer at the neighbourhood gay bar. Back when he thought that not all rich men had to be criminals.

Rhodey kicks Hammer in the stomach, “Yeah? And who’s going to come after him?”

Hammer grins, blood spilling out of his mouth, “The boss.”

A shiver rolls down Steve’s back.

\-------

Peter hears the gunshots and drops down to the ground next to Mr Anthony and his bodyguard.

He knows he should be going there and taking those men down. But Coulson’s advice echoes in his brain.  
_Mess with the bull and you get the horns_.

It scares Peter more than he can admit. Mr Anthony’s saying something to him, but Peter doesn’t care right now.

The Scorpions found him so easily.

He doesn’t want to die.

\--------

Tony adopts a scared voice, “Spiderman, help me and I give you whatever you want.”

The kid doesn’t budge, he’s still facing the firefight. The gunshots keep moving closer. The three of them can now see bursts of light reflect through the maze of the containers as people pull the trigger.

Happy’s getting antsy.

Tony tries again, “Please Spiderman.”

The kid looks back at him, “Yeah, let’s go.”

They move towards the other corner of the enclosure. In front of them, is a nine-foot tall, wall of double grill, enclosing the perimeter.

The kid rams shoulder first into in, taking down two poles with it. It makes a loud sound which draws the attention of the Scorpions.

Those men start shooting frantically at them. Before Tony can drop down, he feels like himself being pushed onto the fallen grill.

The Spiderkid’s on top of him. Shielding him.

Holy shit. The kid’s unreal. Shielding a man, he’s known for three days barely?

Tiny realizes that he can manipulate the kid in a better way. He can easily exploit his hero complex.

Tony crawls ahead, following Happy, with Spiderman on top of him. Tony knows that Rhodey’s stalling them best he can, with those clowns helping him out, maybe.

That’s what buys them the time they need. They make it out of the place before the first bullet clangs against the metal pole of the perimeter grill.

Tony fakes a hobble, allowing Happy to go ahead and jack a car, without the kid noticing.

They clearly don’t have the pick of the litter. When Tony turns the corner, with Spiderman supporting him, Happy’s sitting in an old beat-up car.

The man sticks to their original line, “Sir, we should have brought the Mercedes today.”

Tony pats the hood of the car before getting in, “Hap, make your peace with this beauty. We’ve sold the Mercedes now. And this car had a better chance of making sure we remained invisible.”

There is a reason that Happy is Tony’s bodyguard. They click. The guy picks things up quickly.

He snorts and starts the car, “But they found us anyway.”

Tony pats his arm from the backseat, “Let’s count our blessings and leave.”

The teenager looks at Tony inquisitively, “Wait, who are you talking about?”

Tony flings his hand, “The Scorpions, of course.”

He sounds surprised, “They’re after you?”

Tony nods, “Why else would they come into my compound, guns blazing, like that?”

As Tony sees it, this can go either of two ways, with a kid like him. Either the kid feels guilty about scaring Tony with the gang that’s after him, or he realises that they aren’t after him.

Both situations lead to the kid helping him out. So Tony doesn’t care either way.

“That’s horrible, Mr Anthony. I promise I’ll help you out.”

Tony conceals his grin. He played his move and the kid walked right into it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the story gets going, I guess? I realise that in some places, it looks like I learnt to write from My Immortal. Sorry about that


	5. Et tu, Brute?

“Nah, kid. I can’t let you do that. We can’t have you get hurt.”

Peter rests his hand on Mr Anthony’s shoulder, “Please sir, you’ve got to let me help you. I know what I can handle. Either you help me in bringing them down or I get them on my own.”

Mr Anthony shakes his head, “Fine, I guess. Here, keep my number,” he passes Peter a business card, “and let me know if you need ever need any assistance. I might not be a superhero, but I’ve got a good team of bodyguards.”

Peter takes the card, “But what if you need help?”

The businessman shrugs, “I won’t.”

Peter grabs a pen out of Anthony’s pocket and writes down his number on the corner of the business card before ripping and handing it over, “But you’ll take it for my peace of mind.”

Mr Anthony laughs and his bodyguard, Happy, joins in, “Alright kid. Thanks.”

Finally, their car makes it’s way onto a busier road away from the shady compounds.   
  
Happy turns and looks at Peter, “Hey kid, should we drop you somewhere?”

Peter looks around. They’re close enough to his house that he can swing back.

“Yeah, just drop me here, I’ll go home on my own.”

Anthony pats his back lightly, “Thanks for helping me out kid.”

Peter nods, “Yeah, it’s no problem.”

He gets out and the car drives away into the traffic. Everyone in Queens is used to him now, no one stops him or stares at him.

Peter swings back home slowly. He’s managed to be back before curfew this time. He flips in through the window and walks to the living room.

Boxes of takeout are lying on the coffee table next to May’s feet, who’s snoring softly, looking pale under the glare of the T.V.

Peter pulls off his mask. His hair flops onto his forehead and sticks, due to the sweat. He turns off the T.V. and puts the unopened boxes in the fridge, before taking a shower.

Once he’s done, he picks up his aunt and takes her to her room. The long shifts tire her out so much, that she’s doesn’t even flinch in her sleep, when he drops her unceremoniously on her bed before going back to his room and similarly flopping onto the bed.

\---

When Coulson opens the door to his flat, he already knows something’s wrong. He pulls out his gun before closing the door softly behind him. He can feel someone’s eyes on him in the dark.

He switches on the lights in the flat. He’s lived here long enough to remember the placement of the switchboard.

He finds Maria Hill sitting in the chair he’d brought over from his grandma’s house, pointing a gun in his face with one hand, the other resting comfortably in her jacket pocket.

His gun is pointed away from her.

“Drop it.”

His gun clatters to the floor, the noise stark in the silent room. She raises an eyebrow; Coulson sighs and kicks the gun towards her.

“Hill, what do you want?”

“You said, you weren’t involved with the Scorpions.”

Coulson realizes how Spiderman must feel. Nagging is quite irritating.

He sighs, “Not this again. I told you, I’m not involved.”

She tsks, “And yet, not five minutes after you meet Spiderman, he’s on the scene of a gang shoot out.”

Multiple thoughts go through his head at once. The first is the kid’s safety. Coulson had heard of the alert for a shootout between the Scorpions and the elusive Howard Stark’s minions in Flushing. He’d been too far, stuck in traffic, to help.

What he hadn’t realized was that the kid was there.

“Is he hurt?”

Maria smirks, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

For a moment Coulson forgets that she’s holding a gun to his head.

He advances on her, “I don’t care what games you want to play with me. But keep the kid out of them.”

She rolls her eyes, “The kid’s fine. No thanks to you.”

Coulson throws his hands up, frustrated. This is the longest conversation he’s had with her, no wonder no one in the precinct talks to her no more than necessary, “What are you saying?”

She raises her eyebrows, “You mean to tell me, that you didn’t have a hand in what happened? You fuck off to a warehouse in the middle of nowhere with the kid and an hour later, he’s got into a shoot-out with the guys who’ve been gunning for him since the past three days, and that’s somehow not your fault?”

Coulson sighs, “Listen, I know how it looks, but I’m on the kid’s side, alright? What can I do, to prove it to you?”

Maria smirks, “Call the captain.”

That’s quite a fool-proof plan. If Coulson had been on their side, the Captain would pick up the phone and talk about the firefight. But Coulson also realizes that if he had been on their side, it would also make it far easier to call for help.   
He doesn’t point out this obvious loop-hole to Maria.

He slowly inches his hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone. It’s almost 12 in the night. He dials the captain’s number and puts it on speaker.

A moment later, the Captain’s sleepy hoarse voice comes through the speaker, “Why are you calling, Coulson?”

Coulson gulps, “Sir, I-” he gulps and gets to the point, “Do you know anything about tonight’s shoot-out?”

Though it didn’t happen it their area, almost everyone on duty was aware of the situation.

The question jolts him awake. He answers with a gruff question, “Why? What’re you implying Coulson?”

Coulson replies, “Nothing sir. I just wanted to keep an eye out.”

The captain lets his guard down slightly, “Coulson, it isn’t in our precinct, calm down. Go to sleep. All the information will be there tomorrow.”

The captain hangs up with that.

Maria looks at him from the corner of her eye, “So you aren’t involved in this thing?”

Coulson rolls his eyes, “And people wonder how you became the smartest detective in our precinct.”

She pins him with a stare, “Then why were you looking into the Scorpions?”

Coulson shrugs, “Spiderman stuck his nose where it didn’t belong. I needed to know everything that could help save him, if push came to shove.”

Maria quirks an eyebrow, “So you’d be willing to take the gang down?”

Coulson pinches the bridge if his nose, “I’d have preferred not tangling with the Scorpions at all, but the kid’s gone and pushed himself into it, and I’ve got to help out. So, yes I’d be willing to end the gang.”

Maria smiles, “Good. You’ll be working with me from now on.”

Coulson holds up his hands, “Why? I don’t trust you. I might just turn on you.”

Maria gives him a sweet saccharine smile, “Would you rather work as a lone wolf or have me on your side, against the gang?”

Coulson shrugs, “No thanks, lone wolf sounds much more promising.”

Maria tuts, “Why are you hell-bent on making everything harder on yourself?”

She pulls her hand out of the pocket, holding a phone.

A staticky record of his voice plays out.

_I’d have preferred not tangling with the Scorpions at all, but the kid’s gone and pushed himself into it, and I’ve got to help out. So, yes I’d be willing to end the gang._

She grins, “I’ll tell the captain to expect a special voice recording tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk why I decided to make every alternate person the anti-hero. Don't hate me.


	6. Half-truths add up to whole lies

Coulson stares at Maria, flabbergasted.

“I don’t- Wha- Why are you doing this?” He asks her.

She grins like a Cheshire cat.

He continues, “We’re on the same side. You don’t need to do this.”

She shrugs, “I don’t need people on my side, Phil. What I _need_ is someone under me.”

For a suspended moment in time, Coulson thinks about all the witty comebacks Steve would have for Hill.   
It probably says something about him, that his only friends are a teen vigilante and a perp he interviews regularly. But he doesn’t have time to ponder over it. Instead, he focuses on the issue at hand.

Coulson rolls his eyes and flops on the couch opposite Hill.

It’s a clear choice. He can rat her out and expose himself to the people trying to harm Spiderman or he can work for Hill, doing something he was already planning on doing. Of course, with the blackmailing, she’s going to make him do all the dirty work.

It’s also clear to him that Maria is untouchable. If the captain was able to, he’d have gotten rid of her much earlier.

He sighs and rests his right hand over his eyes, the other one dangling uselessly by his side.

“What do you want me to do?”

She nods, “I need you to get all the files there are, on the Scorpions.”

Coulson stares at Hill through the gap in his fingers, “Why? They’re in the records office.”

She pins him with a stare, “ _All of them_.”

Coulson swears. Going into the plaza? And coming out with those files, without getting caught?

He almost considers turning on Maria. It isn’t going to be easy, especially without any insider help.

\-----

Fury walks into his office at the plaza, weary of his assistant and junior’s staring eyes.

5 men bleeding out in a storage compound is hard enough to hide, without the entire local news media breathing down their necks.

He closes the door to his office and slumps into his seat. This isn’t going to be easy.

Like clockwork, his office landline rings. Maybe it’s because he knows who’s calling but somehow, the ringtone sounds more jarring than usual.

Through the gap in the blinds, Fury sees his assistant jolt in her seat. Everyone in the office knows that 9 a.m. is reserved for Osbourne’s call.

Fury picks up the phone. He shouldn’t be scared of Osbourne. He’s a goddamned commissioner in the NYPD. But his hands still shake when he picks up the receiver.

Osbourne’s voice snarls from the other end, “Was I _supposed_ to find out that my men died, 3 hours later from CNN?”

Fury tries to get a word in, “I didn’t know about-”

Osbourne snarls, “Don’t bullshit me. Every police officer and his dead grandmother knew about this as soon as it happened. You were _supposed_ to alert me and cover this up.” He tsks, “And you did neither. I told you, Nicky, one more step out of line and you’d have to pay.”

Fury tries not to flinch when Osbourne utters the next words, “I’ll be coming for you, Nick.”

Fury challenges him, but his false bravado could be spotted from miles away, “Yeah? All your men are dead. Good luck getting to me.”

Osbourne’s quiet reply sends shivers through Fury, “Don’t forget the tapes, Nicky.”

The line goes dead and Fury throws the receiver down with a loud clatter.

There’s nothing he can do now. Osbourne’s threat isn’t even an ultimatum. All that Fury can do now is try to take him down before the businessman kills him.

If Fury can disable Osbourne’s entire operation on all fronts, lie him up in litigations in business and finish all his associates, then Fury has a chance of survival. Thankfully, Osbourne’s boyfriend has always been a free agent, owing his loyalty to the person with the most green.

\---

Fury walks into Adrian Smith’s office. More than the Chief of Police, the man has been Fury’s puppet.

His implicit trust in Fury has always made Fury’s work a whole lot easier.

Smith’s table is cluttered with papers, reports, evidence, screenshots of CCTV footage, and the man himself is staring down at the pages like they’ll give him what he needs.

Fury raps his knuckles on the door and walks in. Smith’s relief is apparent in the way that his body loosens up.

“Thank god, you’re here Nick. This is too much for me to handle on my own.”

Fury stands next to the man and pours over the data like he doesn’t know that it’s all worthless. If Osbourne and Howard’s gangs were involved then there’s no way that any incriminating evidence would have been left behind.

Smith scratches his eyebrow, “Do you have a plan?”

“Yeah.” Fury always has a plan.

Smith turns his attention towards Fury. Fury doesn’t feel too bad about feeding Smith half-truths, because they benefit both of them. Two birds, one stone and all that.

“We’ve played this game multiple times. Gangs get into shoot-outs, everyone rides our asses to get the guy, we try to get the gang-leaders, instead, a scapegoat gets a life sentence. People still get shot on the street, these gangs still exist and our hard work goes down the drain.”

“So, what are you suggesting?”

“We play the long game this time. Get Os- Get those gang leaders.”

“Nick, how? No one knows who they are.”

“ _We_ don’t know who they are. But we do know their inner circle.”

“The gang leaders and their associates have strong codes. They aren’t going to snitch easily.”

Fury gets a little aggravated, this man has always been a little slow on the uptake, “ _Inner circle_ , Smith, not associates.”

Finally. Smith has his lightbulb moment, “You don’t mean…”

“Yes, that’s exactly who I mean.”

“But the reports said that they haven’t been in contact for over a year.”

Fury shrugs, “Doesn’t hurt to bring him in.”

Smith sighs, “But if he doesn’t talk, we pick up a new lead. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re on a time crunch.”

Fury smiles, “So does that mean I can call Steve Rogers in?”

Smith nods, going back to staring at his files, “Yes, fine.”

\----

Peter has always disliked lunch at school. At first, it was just not knowing where to sit, getting tripped and bullied in front of his entire class and other stupid stuff. Then the spider bite made it worse, the school lunch wouldn’t fill him and the clatter of everyone sitting in the same open room together really turned his brain into mush.

Add to that, over-aggressive friends who won’t leave him alone about his school project and Peter just feels like running away and hiding in a bathroom stall.

At this point, everyone’s so excited about the symposium, that even kids who don’t know him come to talk to Peter about it.

Right now, Peter is biting into a green apple, while Ned drones on about all the things the symposium has, workshops that Peter _has_ to attend, people Peter _has_ to meet. It’s like Ned’s forgotten that he still doesn’t have the money to go.

MJ is sitting across Peter, drafting a letter each for the board of the Symposium, Principal Morita, the Alumni Association and god knows how many other people.

Peter just can’t stand it.

Before he knows what’s happening, he snatches the pen out of MJ’s hand and snaps it into two halves, “Stop, okay? Just stop.”

His friends stare at him, looking slightly scared.

The entire table is looking at Peter, soft-spoken push-over Peter, who’s leaning over the table, eyes blazing, staring angrily at his best friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it took some time getting this chapter out, but I want to thank everyone who left comments, it helped me get around the writer's block. I have the whole story planned out, but I haven't figured out how to write it yet. Please bear with me.   
> again, thanks a lot to everyone. Much love.   
> ~WrittenP


	7. Deafening Silence

The thing about best friends is that they know all your hiding spots in school. In the last few minutes, Peter’s moved from the library to behind the bleachers to the computer lab, all the while keeping his ear out for the conspicuous sounds of his friend’s footsteps and their conversations.

Thankfully, by the lack of Ned’s voice in his immediate surrounding, Peter assumes they’ve lost him. He runs towards the staircase, sneakers slapping against the tiled floor, going down towards the sitting area outside the cafeteria.

This floor doesn’t have many classes, so Peter doesn’t care much about the noise he makes. He turns the corner and pushes the door of the staircase open.

The sight before him, makes him gulp.

MJ is standing opposite him, leaning against the wall, foot-tapping erratically. To her left, Ned’s sitting on the staircase going up, looking just as scared as Peter feels.

Peter considers the staircase on his immediate right, which goes down. He can run away right now, but that’ll just make MJ more furious and he has to go to her dad’s café today.

Peter steels himself for the firing squad. He closes the door behind him and steps forward.

MJ asks him point-blank, “Wanna tell me what that was about, loser?”

Peter backs up against the door, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She advances on him, eyes squinting like she can physically see the bullshit he’s spewing, “So, you’re gonna play dumb?”

Peter ducks, expecting a slap to his head, but it doesn’t come. Instead, when Peter looks up, he sees MJ pull out her phone.

“So, I’ll just call Mr Green and tell him that you’re not in the nurse’s office like you said you were?”

Peter lunges at her phone, “Alright. Fine. J-Just don’t do that.”

MJ nods and puts her phone back in her bag, “So, what’s up?”

Peter sighs, “I don’t know what to make for the symposium.”

Ned replies incredulously, “What?”

MJ flounders a bit as well.

Peter rolls his eyes, “I _said_ I don’t have any ideas for the symposium.”

MJ collects herself, “Bullshit.”

Peter shrugs and looks away, “I don’t know what to tell you guys, I’m just out of ideas.”

MJ scoffs, “Really? Because If I remember correctly, you and Ned had been fangirling over some experiment you’d planned till just before the scholarship was revoked.”

Peter takes the support of the door and slides to the floor, “Yeah, t-that plan didn’t- The plan wasn’t good enough.”

Ned crouches down next to him, “Peter, you can’t give up right now. We’ve all made an effort to get you into the symposium. Don’t let it go to waste.”

Ned’s comment aggravates Peter. For someone who’s known Peter his whole life, sometimes he doesn’t understand Peter at all.

Peter stares at Ned, “You think I don’t know the work you’re putting into this? You think I don’t know that you’ve actually borrowed money from your mother to “buy the new lego set” or that MJ bullied her dad into hiring me for a position they don’t even have at the café?”

Ned looks startled and Peter is sure MJ shares his sentiment, though it isn’t as visible on her face.

Peter continues, “I know what both of you _have done_ for me. I know what you _are doing_ for me, Ned. I respect it and I’m very thankful for it.”

Peter doesn’t realize he’s crying till he feels the wetness on his cheeks. He wipes his face and sniffles a few times before trying to lighten the mood.

“You know, May didn’t raise a quitter. But she did raise someone so scared of failure that he doesn’t even try.”

Ned manages a small smile but MJ’s scowl deepens. The three of them don’t know how to console each other.

They sit in the silence for a little while, interrupted only by Peter’s post cry hiccups and sniffles.

Just before the bell rings to signal the end of class, Peter heaves himself off the floor and turns to open the door.

MJ intercepts his hand and he turns to look at her questioningly.

She sighs, “Peter, you might know how we’re helping you. But you can only respect our hard work if you work hard and push yourself too. You’ve worked very hard this past year and participating in this symposium is about showcasing your work. What I do only gets you there. Everything else is still up to you. You have to make an effort to respect your work as well.”

With that, she slings her bag onto her back and heads out of the staircase.

Ned pats him on the shoulder comfortingly, “Come on man, let’s get to class.”

The second half of Peter’s day is also unusual. Normally, he ends up daydreaming about scientific things vaguely related to his actual schoolwork.

But today his mind keeps going back to Anthony. The man had been very polite and nice to Peter, but Peter’s gut told him that the man wasn’t okay.

It had taken Peter quite some time to realise that his spider-sense and gut feeling were very different.

While they usually agreed on most things, sometimes, in situations like these, Peter felt like he was being ripped into two pieces. Peter fondly remembered the first time this had happened to him.

Sometimes May would cook dinner for an old neighbour of theirs who suffered from Alzheimer’s. Peter was often tasked with taking the food to his apartment. Every time he entered through the door, his spider-sense would go haywire, but the old man didn’t seem threatening to Peter at all.   
Till one day, when Peter’s back was turned to the man, who started throwing books at him. The old man had forgotten who Peter was and acted in self-defence. His spider senses had won out.

Peter hoped that his spider-sense would be correct this time as well.

* * *

Steve usually hangs out in his apartment with his friends, cracking beers. Unless there’s something more interesting going on in the streets. 

Right now, however, the streets are the last place any of them want to be. So, they’re all sitting around contemplating their plan of action.

Hammer’s warning was unnecessary. Steve had known what was going to happen to him in that very moment when he pulled his gun on Osbourne’s men.

Osbourne was going to be out for blood.

Clint speaks up first. He has always been the most optimistic of them all.

“It’s going to be fine, Rhodes shot first, we aren’t going to be involved in this. Plus, we have Stark on our side.”

Natasha snorts and despite the gravity of the situation, Steve cracks a smile as well.

Every time Clint opens his mouth, his inexperience becomes painfully obvious. As his older sister, Natasha had kept him out of all this till she’d been jailed for a year.

Coulson had arrested her and interviewed them about the drug deal. Nat had hated him since then, obviously, and never missed an opportunity to tease Steve about his crush. Though the teasing gradual shifted from venomous insults to friendly ribbing over time, when she found out exactly how mild he was outside working hours.

Sam tried to explain it to Clint when Nat and Steve didn’t take the initiative.

“Look, man, we were there when Osbourne’s men died. All that matters is that we didn’t side with them. So, we’re on borrowed time right now.” He looks at Steve pointedly and holds his hands up, mimicking a surrender, before continuing, “And Steve’s past with Osbourne isn’t doing us any favours.”

He adds belatedly when Steve furrows his eyebrows, “No offence.”

Steve rolls his eyes and looks away. It isn’t going to be easy for him anymore. The Universe had really done him a favour when Osbourne hadn’t come after him when he’d left abruptly.

Steve thought crudely, that maybe this was the universe as well, completing the transaction.

Steve had made sure when he left that, any soft spot Osbourne had for him would have died out.

This was the worst catch-22 he had experienced. Either, he’d sit there like a sitting duck, waiting for Osbourne or he could get Stark’s help.

But Stark’s treatment of snitches was renowned and Steve wasn’t interested in experiencing its intricate details.

Natasha sighs, as though the next words are painful to get out.

“If all of us go to Tony together, maybe he won’t be as aggressive? God knows he can’t afford to lose allies right now.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, maybe Clint’s naivete has rubbed on Nat more than she cares to admit.

Steve tried to tamp down on his frustration, “Come on, Nat. You know that’s the opposite of what’s going to happen. He can’t look weak. It doesn’t matter how many people “admit” to having snitched. He’s gonna kill them all. I’m not letting you guys take the fall for me.”

In the end, it’s the Universe which doesn’t let Natasha take the fall for Steve.

There’s a knock on the door.   
People around here simply barge into each other’s houses. The four of them stare at each other, before jumping into action.

They have a set process for routine checks. But this isn’t part of those checks. The person on the other side of the door raps his knuckles sharply on the door, “NYPD, open up.”

They speed up their process, even more, stuffing packets of drugs and money under the floorboards and stashing the illegal weapons away. All the while, the knocking gets louder and sharper, till there’s a loud bang and the door bursts open.

A man walks in, gun pointed at them, “Hands where I can see them.”

The last gun that Sam’s holding clatters to the floor as they raise their hands. The fact that the police officer is unknown confirms that he’s a special case. Their area has only seen the same useless detectives and beat-cops since the 50s.   
His badge reads H. Williams.

The man stares at Steve, “Which one of you is Steve Rogers?”

Sam and Clint get in the man’s face, trying to intimidate him, “Why? Where’s your warrant? What’re you here for?”

Williams raises an eyebrow and points to the apartment, “I have enough proof to take all four of you into custody. So do you wanna cooperate or spend the next few days in lock-up?”

Clint deflates visibly and Sam becomes a little unsure. Nat might have been okay with going down with him, the boys aren’t.

Steve clears his throat and steps up, “Alright, fine. Let’s go.”

Williams takes out his handcuffs and snaps them onto Steve’s hands quickly. Steve’s ears are pounding with the sound of rushing blood. He vaguely hears Nat hassle Williams about where Steve’s being taken.

_The Police Plaza._

Steve gulps. Osbourne has pulled all the stops on this, he realizes.

Williams shoves him into the car and he vaguely hears Nat say that she’ll be following them.   
Williams’ eyes flit over the 4 of them slowly, almost sympathetic, before they peel out.

After a few minutes, he sees Nat, Clint and Sam in his beat-up car following them. It makes Williams more upset than expected, who turns on the car’s siren.

The crowd parts for them easily, while Steve’s friends get left behind.

* * *

Coulson realizes, for someone willing to run the NYPD into the ground, he isn’t ready to do it.   
But the simple thought of Maria’s recording pushes him forward.

He shakes off his jitters and heads into the building. He can’t help but reminisce about the first time he’d come here as a blue-eyed baby-faced cadet. 

Back then, the building had been the best thing he’d ever seen. Now, he’d give anything to turn back and run away.   
The reception area is relatively empty in the main lobby, considering that he’s shown up so late.   
Coulson walks up to the desk, “Good morning, where can I find Lieutenant Hale’s office?”

The woman looks up from her papers and asks a question in return, “Do you have an appointment?”

Coulson tries to look nonchalant, “Yes, I do.”

She goes back to her paperwork before mumbling, “Take the elevator on the end of this lobby and go to the 4th floor. Someone can guide you from there.”

Coulson nods and walks towards the elevator. His cover has been established. He gets into the elevator, pressing the button for the 5th floor instead of the 4th.

His job is going to be both difficult and slow. In all her plans, Maria hadn’t ever been able to ascertain where exactly the file would be and even if it would be under a relevant name.   
Coulson had to scour the records room without drawing attention to himself. Then take the material out of the Plaza and to a hole-in-the-wall café nearby, where Maria is waiting for him.   
Coulson had asked her why she couldn’t accompany him when she knew so much more about the place than he did. Her response had been vague and shady.

The only advantage of the 5th floor is that it is a maze of lobbies with offices along its length. All of these offices are closed off areas. So, the lobby is relatively empty and quiet.

Coulson makes his way over to the door labelled Records Room. The door, however, is locked. In all her plans, Maria had never mentioned this.

To make it worse, Coulson heard the elevator open and what sounded like 3 or 4 people stepped out, sweeping across the floor.

Against his better judgement, Coulson jiggles the door aggressively, making a little more noise than expected before the door opens.   
He quickly jumps into the room before the men can turn the last corner of the hallway and find him.

He moves slowly through the shelves, trying to get to the least accessible corner of the room when he hears footsteps approach the room.   
  


He tries to settle himself into the smallest place he can, between missing boxes and stack of loose paper. As he scans the dark room, he spots a shockingly familiar head of blonde hair in between the shelves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay in updates. I just got busy with a lot of other things. I hope everyone loves this chapter as much as I do...


	8. A long wait

d and angry. But if there’s one thing he’s learnt from his good-for-nothing father, is that. There’s no place for emotions in this business.

So he takes a deep breath and survey’s the table again, Rhodey is briefing everyone on what went down the previous night.

The more they meet like this, the more Tony feels like it’s a cheap production of The Knights Of The Round Table.

He slides his chair back and stretches his back before getting up.

There it is, that good-awful word. _The Boss.  
_Like they’re in some reality show.

Tony rolls his eyes. Monikers are only used by people who aren't as insidious as they want to seem.

Howard’s name still sends a shiver through people’s backs. They’re still called Howard’s men, and Tony isn’t sure how it makes him feel.

“I don’t think this is going to be as easy as we had previously assumed.” Strange states the obvious.

Happy grumbles, “At least, we have time to regroup. Hammer isn’t there, all the Scorpion’s associates have revoked their ties. We’ll come up with a new plan.”

Pepper’s about to begin humming and hawing over this, when Bucky speaks up, “Boss, you’ve got to see this.”

Instead of sticking his phone under Tony’s nose like he wants to, Bucky puts it down on the table. His shaking knee is the only sign that gives away his impatience.

“It’s a text from Natasha.”

Tony quirks his eyebrows feigning ignorance. He knows all their associates and their dog’s names, but he should act as though they’re all a waste of time.

Pepper, Rhodey and Happy play along, they’re the only ones who know the façade.

“She’s with the tiny punk kid.” Bucky adds.

Tony nods and reads the messages.

//Nat//

It’s Steve. They’ve taken him to the Police Plaza.  
  


//Bucky//

Who’s taken him?

//Nat//

The Scorpions, I think. We’re outside the plaza right now. Just letting you know.

Tony grunts, “I don’t think we have that much time, Hap. These guys still have friends out there. Friends in important places.”

* * *

Steve knows why he’s been called in. One of Osbourne’s minions is going to threaten him, and if he’s lucky enough they won’t follow and shoot him when he heads out.

He waits in the room, bored out of his mind. Even though the room’s dressed up to look like any other office or waiting room, there are subtle differences that stand out to him.

The CCTV camera in two corners of the room, the lack of a lock on the inside of the door, reinforced windows that serve no purpose.

His phone had been taken away as soon as he’d reached the plaza.

After an eternity, a man walks into the room, his badge says N. Fury. Steve might not be able to tell him rank, but Steve knows that he’s a part of the top lot.

He gulps. This isn’t good news.

\--------------

Fear clings to the back of Fury’s mind. The logical part of his brain knows that even if he decides to bail on the man sitting inside the room, Osbourne will still come after him. But having been his lap dog for a while has left its mark.

He pulls in a deep calming breath and steps into the room.

Straight away, the man, Steve Rogers, scans his uniform. Fury tries not to hunch over on himself.

Fury clears his throat, “Tell me about Osbourne.”

Steve looks confused for a moment before his face adopts its neutral expression again.

“Isn’t that your job?”

Fury tries not to let his frustration show, “My job is getting information out of you.”

Steve quirks an eyebrow, “Information on who?”

“Norman Osbourne.” Fury grits out.

Steve smirks, “What about him?”

Fury smacks the table, “I need information on Norman Osbourne, goddamn it.”

Steve’s grin broadens, “Sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Fury sighs, “Look, kid, I don’t know what he’s told you, but Osbourne isn’t getting out of this hole he’s dug for himself. It’ll be much easier for you if you tell us whatever you know about him.”

Steve’s eyes grow wider, highlighting exactly how young he looks. If Fury hadn’t seen his record, this expression would be enough to let him go.

“You’re going to get him?”

Fury nods, “Yeah. We just need some help.”

Steve shakes his head, “I’m sorry. I can’t- I haven’t spoken to him in the past year. I don’t know if I can give any relevant information.”

Fury growls, “You’re telling me, that you go from a kid on the street to his most important boyfriend-” Fury notices Steve physically shy away from the world, he’s found a crack, “- and yet when you leave he doesn’t try to get you back or kill you?”

Steve gets flustered, “I don’t know, maybe he was done with me? Maybe he loved me enough to let me go?”

Fur scoffs, “Stop deluding yourself kid, he didn’t love you, Norman Osbourne has always kept a harem bigger than the list of his business associates. He’s only done with his boyfriends when they get scared, die or run away. You’re a ballsy kid who’s still living in the city. Are you sure about that? Don’t you want to get back at him? For all the shit he might have put you through?”

Steve shrugs, “Look, man, I wanted to get out of it all. I was done with his stuff. When he didn’t follow me, I didn’t look for explanations. I just counted my blessings and went on. I think you should do the same. The NYPD is full of his men, the fact that you’re against him and still aren’t dead is a big thing. Move on.”

Fury sighs, “So you don’t know anything?”

Steve sighs, “No, I don’t.”

\---------------

Steve doesn’t know what’s going on anymore. He’d gone into the room expecting to get the beating of his lifetime.

Now he’s getting reeled into a plan against Norman. Fury tries to ease him into it.

He knows he shouldn’t react to anything Fury says. But he can’t help it when the man spews everything the devil on his shoulder has ever said.

But his good sense prevails. He can’t help but think that Nat would be proud of him. Of the two of them, she’s far most patient and mature, though not a lot.

When he declines, Fury sighs and gets up. He heads to the door and calls in two men.

A. Reyes and Smith.

Steve vaguely remembers the names. Then it clicks, Fury, Reyes and Smith. They all work for Osbourne. Or at least used to. 

Fury nods his head, “Take him out, boys.”

Before Steve can get a word in, Reyes pipes up, “So this was the boss’s boy?”

Fury nods, “Yeah, show him the basement. The boss wanted him to get the best treatment.”

Reyes and Smith cackle.

Steve reels, “What? You bastard.”

He focuses on Reyes and Smith, “He’s lying. I’m not involved in this. Fury’s betraying you all.”

Smith rolls his eyes and hauls him up.

Steve sticks his foot in the door jamb to stall, He yells at Fury, “I’ll help you out man. I’ll give you all the information on the boss.”

Smith stalls a little, clearly surprised by the turn of events and Steve thinks for a moment that he’s got a chance. But isn’t able to optimize it.

Reyes kicks him in the ankle hard enough that it sprains and they’re able to drag him away.

Steve knows that he has to run away. And that’s exactly what he does. As soon as they’re in the fire escape, about to go down the stairs, he knocks his head backwards, knocking it into Smith’s chin, clattering his teeth together and elbows Reyes in the balls.

He smirks, there are some great advantages to being short.

He takes off, climbing up the stairs instead of down.  
Going down might be easier, but if they find him on the streets, faking an encounter isn’t going to be too difficult. But no one looks right under their noses, that the one thing that he’s learnt after running away from Osbourne.

The only thing is, he can’t keep running up the stairs, not with these tall men following him. He rushes out of the staircase on the 5th floor, making sure that he doesn’t look too frazzled or hurried.

Thankfully the floor has closed offices. An empty room catches his eye.

Its name reads, Records Room. Steve rushes in and closes the door after himself.

He falls behind a shelf in the back, chest heaving with deep breaths. It’s been stupidly easy, he thinks to himself.

And that’s what fucks it up.

The door of the records room rattles. Steve realizes that the room doesn’t even have any windows which he might open and run out of. He hunches down and hopes for the best.

The door opens with a sharp bang and shuts close just as quickly. Steve looks up quickly. The man who’s come in doesn’t look like Reyes or Smith.

But Steve wouldn’t put it past Osbourne to have more than a few payed-out minions in the police.

He leans against the shelf facing away from the stranger.

A moment later, feet thunder down the hallway and Steve experiences a sinking feeling, he’s been caught.

But the people outside, continue down the hallway and Steve breaths a sigh of relief. He can easily take down one man. 

Steve concentrates on man’s footsteps. He too seems unsure of his surroundings. The man stumbles around before suddenly stopping behind the shelf, next to which Steve has taken refuge.

Steve realizes that he’s been spotted. Steve knows that he can’t take the man head-on.

He waits in the same position, only bending his legs so that he can pounce easily when the time is right.

\----------

Coulson walks forward slowly. He thinks to himself, _it can’t be Steve Rogers_.  
But that short man has always found imperious ways to get in Coulson’s business.

Coulson walks right up to the shelf behind which he’s hiding and he loses track of everything suddenly.

He gets tripped over by someone’s feet and before he can kick his feet out, his ankles are trapped between two small yet strong feet. Coulson tries to struggle out of his attacker’s grip, which proves to be a difficulty in the dark.  
In the following melee, even his upper body gets the same treatment as his legs. Somehow, Coulson ends up squishing his arms between his torso and the floor while his attacker, _Steve_ , rests his entire upper body strength on his midriff.

\----------

As he pounces on the man, Steve vaguely realizes that he uses the same perfume as Phil.

Steve grimaces, it’s hard enough trying to pin down a man bigger than you, without having to manage not getting turned on.

But fighting off bigger or stronger men isn’t very difficult for Steve anymore, not with the kind of lifestyle he leads daily.

He trips the man and pins his ankles down before he can even realise what’s happened.  
_  
The bigger they are, the bigger they are._

\------------

Coulson rasps out, “Steve?”

The said man responds with an equally incredulous, “Phil?”

“Let me go.”

“No. You’ll take me to them.”

Coulson asks, “Who?”

Steve snorts, “Yeah, nice try. I’m not getting in trouble with the Scorpions.”

Coulson asks, “So, don’t tell them about this.”

“What?”

“I mean, don’t tell them that you found me snooping around for their files and you won’t get in trouble.”

“You’re looking for their files? Are you with Fury?”

“Sure?”

Steve aims to smack him in the head, but his hand only reaches Coulson’s cheek. The hit stings a bit. “Are you with Fury about taking down the Scorpions or not?”

Coulson almost shouts, “He’s taking down the Scorpions?”

Steve rolls his eyes, “So you’re not then? Good.”

The shorter man rolls off of Coulson quickly, but Coulson still feels aches in his muscles that he hasn’t since his days at the academy.

Coulson’s weird aches and pains must show on his face because Steve grins and points out, “I’m much stronger than you.”

Coulson rolls his eyes.

He asks the shorter man, “What are you here for anyway?”

Steve shrugs, “The usual. Police want me to snitch on their boss and also tries to kill me for it.”

Coulson makes a confused face and Steve waves him away, “It’s nothing important.”

Coulson sighs, “So, you’re hiding from people here?”

Steve nods, “Yup.”

They both freeze when they hear loud footsteps running in the hallway. But thankfully, the men outside don’t think about looking in.

Coulson says, “Alright then, help me look for the files on the Scorpions.”

Steve quirks an eyebrow, “I’m in the middle of running away.”

Coulson points to the door, “Please, do go on.”

Just then, another set of feet rush past the door.

Steve huffs, “Okay, fine. Maybe I’m not leaving right this second, but I’m not helping you with the file.”

“Why? Didn’t you jump ship?”

Steve waves his hands around, “That’s exactly why. I don’t want to get into it again and trust me, you don’t either.”

Coulson huffs and turns to scan the closest cabinets.

Steve huffs, “Your funeral.”

In the quiet that follows, Coulson hears multiple feet running around the floor. Or more specifically, running towards the staircase near the records room. Coming closer before turning away and echoing for a few moments.

Steve is sitting on the floor, back against a shelf.

Coulson asks him, “How many people are after you?”

“What? I don’t know three, maybe four. Why?”

“Do you hear that?”

“No?”

“Everyone’s going down.”

Steve shrugs, “It must be their break of whatever.”

Coulson shakes his head, “No,-” he checks his watch, “not at 3 in the afternoon.”

Just then the door bangs open.

\----------------

Steve huffs. His luck is the worst.

Meyers and Smith stand on the other side of the door, grinning like this is a joke.

“Oh, so this is how you were planning on getting out?” Meyers grins.

Steve grits his teeth.

Smith sneers, “But your shitty boyfriend can’t save you now can he?”

Before Steve or Coulson can react, the two men shut the door again, obviously locking it from the outside.

Coulson rushes forward and tries the door handle. But Steve already knows that it’s a futile attempt.

The icing on the cake is, not five seconds later, when the fire alarm starts ringing in the hallway outside.

Coulson slumps, his head supported by the door and he closes his eyes for a second.

Steve shoves him out of the way. Coulson can have an existential crisis later.

\---------

Coulson’s day just keeps going from bad to worse. He tries to open the door, jiggling it loudly. It doesn’t give.

Just as he’s about to try again, the fire alarm goes off. It brings him closer to tears.

Steve shoves him out of the way and tries to unlock the door with a paperclip. With nothing better to do, Coulson ends up staring at him.

Steve’s eyebrows are furrowed in concentration and fear. His shoulders are hunched down. The short sleeves of his shirt stick to his shoulders with sweat.

Coulson swallows quietly.

Steve looks over at him, worry written in every creak on his forehead, “I'm not being able to open the door. I can't focus.”

Coulson slouches against the door.

But Steve grabs his chin and makes him look up. Before Coulson can even open his eyes, Steve’s kissing him, licking into his mouth obscenely.

Coulson tries to reciprocate, but Steve pulls back just as quickly as he started and grins, “You were making me lose focus.”

Coulson feels like crying, with relief and something like love.

Steve shoulders him away from the door, works on the paperclip lodged in the keyhole just a little bit and the door clicks open.

Steve grins at him, “Don’t try to be more dramatic than me.”

Coulson shoves his shoulder into Steve’s and drags him towards the staircase.

They both grin at each other stupidly and rush down the stairs. They open the door and come out in one of the back alleys.  
After that, it’s quite easy for them to run away without being spotted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've ended up focusing quite a lot on Coulson and Steve in the last few chapters, we'll be getting back to the scheduled programmes shortly.  
> -WrittenP


	9. Wisp Webs And Bob-Cuts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter tries to help with evacuating the police plaza, and somehow gets pulled into a drama he doesn't want to be involved in...

It takes about 3 calls from students to their parents or teachers, saying ‘I stuck in a pile out caused by aliens’ or ‘there’s a fire breathing monster in the subway, I’ll come home a little late’ or something equally dangerous, before there’s a compulsory message chain for all students to get the latest update on the most current Ney York TM  freak accident. 

It’s one of the main reasons that Peter doesn’t carry Coulson’s phone on him unless he’s on patrol. 

Peter’s phone along with everyone else’s lights up just when the bell goes off. Mrs Flint, the senior English teacher pales, “What is it?”

It really is a matter of concern when Mrs Flint doesn’t reprimand anyone for bringing their phones into class. 

Peter feels the beginnings of a headache. The news isn’t good. It never is, but Peter isn’t always stuck with hundreds of worried teenagers in a building as scary news is delivered to them. Peter feels like there’s a stampede of animals running around him. 

Flash reads out the information from the link, “Someone’s planted a bomb in the police plaza.”

A girl in the front seat, Lucy something, Peter isn’t sure of her name, is clutching her seat hard, her knuckles white.    
Her heart is beating much louder and faster than the rest, Peter can’t ignore the sound. 

Mrs Flint notices her discomfort as well, “Ms Whittemore, do you need to call someone?”

Lucy Whittemore nods. Mrs Flint replies, “Very well. After you’re done, please go to the office.”

Lucy answers quietly, “Yes, Mrs Flint.”

She leaves the room with a friend in tow. Mrs Flint clears her throat, “does anyone else need a moment?”

Peter’s hand shoots up before he knows what he’s doing. The stupid spider bite and his special sixth sense. Mrs Flint peers at him over her glasses, before making a small waving motion. 

Peter hurries out of the class, bag still on his shoulders. Ned catches his eye, looking inquisitive. 

Peter looks away. He can’t explain his life to Ned anymore. He wants to, very badly, but can’t. 

He hikes his bag up and walks out of school, which is quite easy. He studies the news. The severity of the bomb or the building’s structural damage isn’t discussed. He doesn’t know how difficult it’s going to be and he needs all the help.

Once outside, Peter curses himself for not carrying Coulson’s burner phone. Then, an idea strikes him.

Kill two birds with one stone.

\---x----

//Mark Houston//

Meet Spiderman at Park Row and Pearl Street, near the police plaza. 

Tony laughs and an abrupt silence takes over the table.

Tony shakes his phone at them, “Got another piece to add to the board.”

Rhodey’s figured it out.

“The kid?” He asks.

“Messaged from his phone, I’m guessing.”

“What does he want?” Pepper asks.

Tony forwards the number to her. Pepper can deal with finding the location and such.

“He’s calling me to the Plaza,” Tony replies. 

Bucky asks, “How are we going to do this?”

Everyone knows Tony. He doesn’t reveal his chips unless he’s using them to take the win. 

Happy adds, “Tony can walk in and just ‘show support’.” he adds air quotes and rolls his eyes, “What does the kid even expect? None of us has webs shooting out of our asses.”

Tony sighs. Of all the people gathered at the table, he’s the only one without a rep sheet. It comes with having friends in higher places. 

The power imbalance between them all is quite distinct and unerasable. They all have power in their own way, Rhodey’s an honoured veteran, Pepper runs Wall Street with her tech whiz, Stephen can dog walk doctors from Yale any day of the week and Happy and Bucky have a roster of blackmail and favours on the streets.   
But Tony’s the mafia kid. He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and he’s going to take it to his grave. Everyone else is dragging on his coattails. 

Tony nods at Happy’s response and waits for everyone else. 

Bucky adds, “But there are people out there who know Tony and are actively targeting him. We don’t know much about this Boss character, do we want to take a bet?”

Strange responds to him, “We can’t sit around. If we stay away because of the Scorpions, and it turns out to be a useless precaution, we lose out on gaining an important associate.”

Tony half listens to their plan, as the table dissolves into a discussion on how useful Spiderman is. 

Pepper whispers to Tony, “I’m taking a look at the number.” Then stands up and leaves discreetly.

Tony brings them to order, “Alright that’s enough.”

The men stop their discussion. Tony nods at the TV in the corner that’s playing the live news,

_ “...the masked vigilante, popularly known as Spiderman, has been spotted at the Plaza, helping the evacuation team...” _

The news plays a small clip of the teenage swinging around.

“Why is he calling us?” Bucky asks exasperatedly. 

Tony applauds the kid. He knows what he’s doing. 

“Checking alliance.” Rhodey supplies. 

“We have to go,” Tony adds. 

Pepper walks back into the room and addresses Tony, “The name checks out, it’s a teenager in Mid-Town High, where Spiderman has been spotted regularly. Height, weight and other physical features match up, considering the loose tracksuit and all.”

Tony nods at Happy, who walks out, getting the car ready. 

Bucky follows him out. Rhodey’s on everyone’s watchlist right now. Going near the plaza is useless.

Before leaving, Tony lets Pepper know, “Check his alibi. We have to be sure.”

Pepper nods and heads back out. 

\---x--- 

Peter finally climbs down from the building when the bomb squad begins to go it. He hasn’t seen Mr Anthony yet. 

Even though expecting the man to be a criminal seems like the plot of a soap opera, But Peter’s seen some weird shit and it doesn’t hurt to be careful. 

It isn’t easy to slink away when you’re wearing a red and blue tracksuit in bright daylight in front of hundreds of police officers. 

It’s a weird stalemate. 

They stare at him but don’t approach him and he doesn’t know if he can leave. 

Peter can’t help but apply his usual mix of charm and awkward and hope it sticks. 

“Hey, guys.” He holds up a peace sign and promptly puts it down, “Keep up the good work.” 

There’s no response. Peter keeps running his mouth, “I really like ya’ll’s outfits man. This is just great, catching up with all of you. I’ll just… ya know… leave now? Places to be things to do? Peace out.”

And he walks away slowly. Moving towards an alley which will lead him to his meeting point with Mr Anthony.

He keeps his senses alert for any suspicious activity around. But he knows he isn’t going to be able to pursue it, but Peter wants to keep every detail about the planted bomb in his mind.

When he turns into a secluded alley, he registers two pairs of footsteps following him. He knows by their gait and speed that they’re most likely police officers. Peter looks ahead, the street at the other corner of the alley is busy. He can easily swing out from there and text Mr Anothony later, considering he’s even shown up. 

He begins to walk faster. The footsteps keep up. Peter speeds up again, The footsteps fall back. For a moment, Peter feels safe, before his plan shatters entirely. 

“Hands where I can see them, Punk.”

Peter stops. He knows that his healing powers can take a bullet to the leg or the hand, it hurts like a bitch, but it isn’t life-threatening. He hasn’t had an interaction with bullets in his chest cavity, and he doesn’t want to try it either. 

Peter puts his hands up and slowly turns around. Making sure that he takes a couple of steps towards the pair of policemen as well. 

He doesn’t have enough web fluid left to tackle both officers if worst comes to worst.

“How do you know Howard?” The first one asks.

Anyone who’s been on the streets and in New York’s underbelly has heard the name. Peter tries to keep out of the man’s business. He might be a vigilante, but he doesn’t have a death wish.

“He watches my Onlyfans,” Peter replies. 

The officers exchange weird looks, Peter steps forward again.

The one holding the gun asks him again, “Don’t bullshit me, kid. How do you know Howard?”

Peter shrugs, “Don’t know who you’re talking about.”

Peter notices that they’ve taken every identification piece off their uniforms. Oh well, he’ll have to name them himself.

The other one asks, “So what do you have to do with the shootout that happened last week?” When he opens his mouth, it’s to reveal a line of crooked teeth. 

_ How do they know he was at the storage units? His webs should have dissolved by the time the police showed up. _

Peter replies, “Too many shootouts happen around here man, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The first one, Thick Shoulders, shook his head, “This is taking too long.”

Crooked Teeth fixes his gun’s aim right on Peter’s heart, “Last time to give a good answer kid, or I’ll put a bullet through you.”

Peter focuses on the alley that surrounds him. He needs to figure out a way fast. 

Thick Shoulders orders, “Take off your mask and throw it to us.”

Peter laughs, “No can do, sir. I’m a  _ masked vigilante _ , it’s kind of a job requirement.”

Crooked Teeth clicks his gun’s safety switch off.

Peter webs the gun away. It clatters down next to him. He pounces. Webbing them both up and mummifying them. 

In the back of his mind, Peter knows how much trouble this is going to land him in. He’s going to be a wanted criminal now. 

He sticks Crooked Teeth to a wall of the alley with his webs and tries to secure Broad Shoulders with the remaining web fluid. 

Suddenly, the fluid gives out. Peter tries now to be obvious about it, but Thick shoulders is tied to the wall with only a string of webs and Peter’s holding onto him by a thin wisp of smoke. 

Peter thinks that if he leaves them both, he can get away safely, but his hopes are dashed when he hears a loud rip.

Thick Shoulders’ damned thick shoulders. The officer only has to wiggle hard for the thin webs to give away and slowly he’s unsticking from the wall. 

Peter can manage to get away. But the other end of the alley is too far and he’s forgotten to take Thick Shoulders’ gun away. 

Peter waits. 

When Thick Shoulders slumps against the wall, Peter quickly reels him in, using the small string of web that attaches them.

Peter is quick enough to get near him that Thick Shoulders isn’t able to get a good grip on his gun. Peter grabs it and twists it out of his hand before throwing it away. 

But he still hasn’t neutralised the broader man. 

The police officer wiggles out of the webs and breaks them. Peter gets a small warning, courtesy his spider-sense before fist and kicks start flying. 

Peter runs the defensive. He doesn’t want to add a repeated offence of harming police officers to his record. 

He decides that even though Broad Shoulders is strong, he can get tired easily. 

Peter decides to outlast the man till he’s tired enough that Peter can just run away. 

Behind him, Peter hears a car run into the alley. Peter realises that he’s fucked. Kidnapped in an alley is literally the lamest thing that could happen to him. 

Peter kicks Broad Shoulders in the stomach and uses the inertia to launch himself onto the walls of the alleyway. He isn’t far enough from the car to be out of the range of a bullet, but now he has eyes on everything. 

Crooked teeth is struggling against his bonds. Broad Shoulders is heaving on the ground and a buff man with a bob cut gets out of the car. 

He nods at Peter before turning towards Broad Shoulders. He walks over to the man, bends down and whispers something in his ears, soft enough that Peter can barely make it out. 

“Tell your boss… it isn’t easy… you know better-”

Peter gets distracted when Mr Anthony gets out of the car and yells at him, “Hey, Spiderkid!”

Peter startles. 

“Come on down, kid.”

“Don’t turn me over to the police.”

Anthony laughs, “No one’s doing that kid. These are just my guys.”

Peter looks at the police officers who are nodding their heads. looking like they’re about to piss their pants. 

Anthony nods, “Alright, then kid, What did you want to talk about?”

Peter lets himself down the wall slowly, “Just needed help getting out.”

Tony nods and gets into the car, after nodding to the bob-cut man.

As soon as they’re all in the car, their demeanour changes. Anthony, Happy and Mr Bob-cut Man look much more relaxed. 

Tony nods at the unknown man, “That’s Bucky.”

Bucky looks back from the front seat, “Hey.”

Peter nods back and turns to Anthony, “I wanted to ask you about a man called Howard.”

Anthony smirks, but it’s unlike any of his other expressions, lacking warmth and comfort, “Oh really? I’d assumed you would have heard about this man till now, Markie, with your history in New York’s underbelly.”

Peter shakes his head, “My name isn’t Mark.”

Anthony smiles, “And I don’t know anything about Howard, other than the fact that we should all steer clear of him.”

Anthony’s smile is reflected by the other men in the car. Peter feels like he’s missing a joke. 

Anthony changes the topic pretty quick, “Anyway, I have a proposition for you, young spider. I saw how to fought the two men today, and I have to say, for someone as strong as you, the performance was abysmal.”

Peter tries to defend himself, “I wasn’t trying to hurt them-”

Anthony cuts him off, “It’s in the past now. But I can offer you good training. In fact, we can start today.”

Peter mulls it over. While the fight Anthony wasn’t his full skill, Peter knows that he isn't the most skilled fighter around. He should take the opportunity he’s getting. 

Peter looks at his watch. School is going to let out in five minutes. 

“Sure. Let’s try it once.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I updated so late, it's been a crazy couple of weeks for me. I know the story's losing focus on the main pair, I promise I'll highlight them again, I just want to pull together Phil and Steve enough so that everything else lines up. I'm still changing the storyline a little every day. Thanks for reading. Don't forget to leave a kudos or comment if you enjoyed the new chapter.   
> Stay safe, stay healthy, stay at home and wear a mask.  
> ~WrittenP


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